One shot

she untangles the knots in her hair

she removes the coloured powder plastered all over her face

staring at a resemblance of herself

warm beads of liquid dampen her face

she shakes her head

it's over. . . at least for today

the autumn wind sends a chill down her spine

her thoughts fill with questions

she has two mouths to feed

though she knows she shouldn't, she carries on

she has no choice, not now, not tonight

her life depends on it

closing her eyes, she feels the joy and the laughter that once was

but she slaps herself in anger, "that's not real" she tells herself.

this is. . .

the penetration into her raw flesh

evokes a sense of comfort and relief

it hits her hard through and through

her mind is at ease. . . at least for now.

another shot of satisfaction is the pain of prostituition